


Buttons

by Anonymous



Category: Queen (Band), Smile (Band)
Genre: M/M, Mild Smut, buttons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-28
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-12 13:35:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29760441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Why none of Brian's shirts button.
Relationships: Brian May/Tim Staffell
Comments: 4
Kudos: 13
Collections: Anonymous





	Buttons

Buttons fly from Brian’s shirt and scatter-rattle on the floorboards – what would Roger make of the sound effects? The buttons roll and spin and slip between the cracks. Brian sighs.

But Tim’s hands are now on his skin – a distraction – Tim’s hands are in his hair – it is almost as if Tim has more than two hands – Brian kisses him urgently. Tim’s hands are warm. Tim is warm. Hot, Brian thinks, Tim is hot in all senses of the word. He laughs – pure joy escaping from him.

“What’s so funny?” Tim wonders, also smiling – joy is infectious. Brian wishes it infected him more often.

Brian shakes his head slightly. This is not the time to discuss. This is the time to kiss. This is the time to sweep Tim towards the bed.

The bed springs jangle. Tim’s fingers are fumbling with Brian’s fly buttons. They spring free one by one and Tim’s hand feels warm against the cotton of Brian’s underwear. Brian wriggles trying to shuck off the jeans. Tim tugs and he squirms. It is inelegant and he laughs again and so does Tim – a spontaneous outbreak of joy.

A look of determination crosses Tim’s face and he scrambles off the bed to get better purchase on Brian’s troublesome clothes. He tears off his own clothes too until he is standing naked next to the bed and Brian is lying naked on top of it, his cock standing to attention leaking pre-come.

Brian reaches for Tim. He nods towards the bedside cabinet and Tim retrieves lube and condoms from the drawer. The bed springs complain again as Tim’s clambers back on.

Brian wonders vaguely what the neighbours can hear. Everything, he concludes after a moment. He can hear them, after all.

Tim’s hair drips around his face. “You’re beautiful,” Brian tells him earning a smile. He enjoys making Tim smile. It is one of life’s pleasures. It is a small thing but something to be treasured nevertheless. Often the little things are the most precious – pearls and diamonds, smiles and tender caresses.

His fingers work Tim open. He takes his time. Every moment with Tim is a bonus. Every moment until Tim realises he is not worth the effort and walks away. Every moment is to be savoured.

Tim moans. Brian caused that. He feels a little rush of power. He supposes acts of love are always a little like this – giving power away – using your power wisely – trusting.

Tim’s hair tickles Brian’s chest as he kisses Brian’s lip, his throat, his chest, his tongue teases Brian’s nipple causing Brian’s breath to hitch. Tim gasps as Brian scissors his fingers. “I want you,” Tim tells him. “I want your cock,” he clarifies.

Brian obliges, sliding in slowly, checking that Tim is okay. Tim is impatient. Brian has created need. He has power here. It is something to be savoured. It is to be used responsibly. He starts to move. He would like to start slowly – to savour the moment – but something more primal has taken him over and he thrusts into him urgently – telling him breathlessly how fabulous he is.

Tim grins and mutters something along the lines of Brian not being too bad himself.

***

Roger holds the button-less edge of Brian’s shirt between his thumb and forefinger. He gives Brian a knowing look and Brian hates himself for blushing. “You should get Tim to buy you new shirts,” Roger tells him, “Or ask him to sew the buttons back on for you.”

Brian’s blush intensifies. He is perfectly capable of sewing the buttons back on himself but there never seems to be time. And part of him secretly likes wearing these shirts which have witnessed passion from a crumpled heap on the floor.

Roger’s fingers brush against Brian’s chest as he releases the shirt and Brian wonders, not for the first time, what it would be like with both Tim and Roger in his room. The bed springs would protest, of course but Brian thinks it might be fun. Roger is fun. The euphoria – the infectious joy Roger would bring with him – that might be worth overcoming his reservations about asking him to join them.


End file.
